


Fields of Gold

by PsychedelicShips



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Background Intrulogical - Freeform, Fae AU, Fae Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Forced Marriage, Human Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, M/M, Trans Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, background karrot kings, background mociet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:40:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27163978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsychedelicShips/pseuds/PsychedelicShips
Summary: Roman is a faerie prince expected to marry. Virgil is a human who wants to get out of his village. Roman makes a plan to pretend to be in love with Virgil, and Virgil agrees to it.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Nico Flores/Thomas Sanders
Comments: 16
Kudos: 145





	1. A Deal

Roman stood at the edge of the woods, watching a dark haired mortal girl sulk with a small bouquet of flowers in her hand. Just moments before, she had seemingly been working up the courage to talk to another mortal boy, yet she now sat on the steps leading to what Roman assumed to be her house, her head between her knees and the hood of her cloak pulled over her head to guard against the chilly air. 

Roman watched as the mortal girl threw the bouquet beside herself and began to pick at a loose thread on her sleeve. As sunset turned into night, and the other mortals left for their own homes, the dark haired girl with the sad bouquet stayed sitting, head between her knees and hair in her face. 

Seeing his chance, Roman glanced around to make sure there were no spectators before stepping out of the woods, double checking that his disguise was in place. He immediately felt the headache that came with being farther from the woods as he walked down the cobblestone path to where the girl sat. She would likely fulfill Roman’s needs, and if she didn’t, he could simply wipe her memory and find another that would. 

Reciting the script in his head, Roman walked up to the girl and cleared his throat. 

“Excuse me? What’s your name?”

The girl looked up and hesitated for a moment before replying, “You can call me V.”

“Well, V, I have a proposition for you.”

She eyed him suspiciously, and Roman couldn’t blame her. It wasn’t everyday that a stranger came up to you with the intent of making a deal. 

“And what would that be?” She asked, not taking her eyes off him. 

“Well,” Roman paused for drastic effect. “I need you to marry me.”

There was a beat of silence in which he could see the disbelief in V’s eyes. Then, she did something Roman didn’t expect. She started  _ laughing.  _

“ _Me?_ Of all people, you walk up to me and ask me to marry you? Surely someone as haughty as yourself can find someone much nicer than me, both in looks and tone.”

Roman sighed. This was definitely not going the way he expected it to. He snapped his fingers and dropped his disguise of the son of a well-off lord or something to show his true form, deciding that it was time to be serious. 

The girl abruptly stopped laughing and gasped, open-mouthed at how Roman truly looked. 

She took in his pointed ears and long, pointed teeth, his flowing silky robes and red-and-gold insect-like wings on his back.

“You’re fae,” V said, matter-of-factly. 

“Thank you for pointing out the obvious. Yes, I am fae. I am Prince Roman of the Summer Court, and I have a problem that I would like your help to fix.”

“What could I,” V pointed at herself. “A mortal who isn’t even liked by other humans, do to help you,” she pointed at Roman. “An immortal magic faerie?” 

Roman noticed there wasn’t an insult laced with the description of him, likely because she knew what he was and what he could do. Luckily for her, though, doing something to her would mean that he would have to endure the teasing of the court and disappointed looks of his mother for far longer. 

“Well,” Roman began. “It’s a little complicated. Mind if I sit down?”

Not waiting for her answer, Roman sat next to her. 

“You see, I have to get married, and the thing is, that I don’t want to. I would much rather paint or sing than be expected to court a lady. No offense, of course.”

“None taken,” V grunted. 

“And so, I came up with a plan that I would get married for real but to someone who also didn’t particularly want to get married. This is where you come in. You seem like the kind of person who wants true love or what have you, so I’m going to make a deal. A geas, if you will.”

V sat up at Roman’s mention of a geas. It was a vow that came with magically bestowed gifts and could be given by a faerie to a human if the human agreed to the terms. 

“I will give you the freedom, once married, to sleep with or kiss whomever you would like, along with the thing you want most, be it riches or silks or immortality. Name what you want. The price is leaving this town and going through a marriage ceremony with me.”

V was silent for a minute, thinking, before finally responding. 

“What I want most and what you require I doubt can happen at the same time,” she said, deflating. 

Roman puzzled over her words. What could she possibly want that would make them unable to marry? The only conclusion that Roman could come to was death, but if that was it, there were many ways Roman could think of that she could have attained it already. 

“I’m not sure what you mean by that,” Roman replied. 

“I want to be a boy.”

“What- oh! Oh, I see-“

“Sorry to crush your dreams or whatever-

“No, no! This is even better!” It was Roman’s turn to laugh at the absurdity of it all. What were the chances of him coming across someone who was so perfect for the job?

“What- what do you mean?” V asked tentatively. 

“I like boys, and you want to be one! My mother expected me to get a wife, but I’ll explain the situation, and then poof! Both of our troubles will be gone!”

V sat in stunned silence. She- well, he, actually, seemed truly taken aback by Roman’s reaction. 

“So you- you can really turn me into a boy?” He asked, hopeful. 

“Of course! Stand up, and I’ll do the geas right now, as long as you’re willing to accept my terms.”

“So if I leave here and don’t come back and marry you but not really, I’ll get the body of a boy and the freedom to do whatever I want?”

“Whatever you want within the bounds of legality, yes, that’s exactly it.”

“Then let’s do it. Right now,” V stood. “The only thing is… I want to keep my body, but I also want you to make what’s already here more masculine. Do you know what I mean?”

“I understand. V, are you sure you’re ready? Because once you go through with this, there’s no going back,” Roman held out his hand.

V took a deep breath and took Roman’s. “I’m ready.”

“When I tell you to state your name, say the name you want. Your old name will be replaced by the one you say, so if you don’t know what you want to be called, I can wait for you…?”

“I told you, I’m ready. Let’s get on with it, Princey.”

“Alright, stormcloud.”

Roman closed his eyes and gripped V’s hand, and started to recite the words for the geas. 

“I, Prince Roman of the Summer Court, swear that I will give you your greatest desire and freedom to do as you please if you swear that you will go through a marriage ceremony with me. State you name, desire, and swear that you agree to my terms.”

Red mist-like tendrils of magic swirled around their hands, the first half of the binding oath. 

“I, Virgil Crowe, swear that I will agree to your terms. The thing I most desire is to become a boy. I will go through the marriage ceremony in exchange for that.”   
Purple tendrils of magic entwined with the red of Roman’s, swirling together to complete the oath. 

Then, as suddenly as it began, the colorful swirls dissipated. Roman and Virgil released their hands from each other. 

Virgil looked around and rubbed his hand, trying to get the feeling back. Who knew magic made you numb?

“That was- woah,” Virgil said, startled. His voice was so deep! “Hold on-”

He turned around and pulled the collar of his shirt down. 

“This- oh my god. Do you have a mirror or something?

Virgil ran a hand through his now-short hair, smiling. 

“This is… literally everything I’ve wanted. Thank you so much,” Virgil’s smile seemed to stretch ear to ear. 

“Well, Virgil, I’m glad I could do my part. But, ah, we still need to get married,” Roman replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Right. When does that happen?”

Virgil’s indifference towards the prospect of marriage, while it was almost exactly what Roman wanted, was still a little odd. Who was so casual at agreeing to spend the rest of their life bound to someone they didn’t love, even if both agreed that there was nothing romantic between them? 

Nevertheless, Roman replied, “I’ll expect my mother and the rest of the Summer court will wish to see me court you, and the next full moon after that is when I expect the ceremony will happen. In the meantime, we will pretend to be in love with each other when there are other faeries around, but I expect nothing from you when we are alone.”

“Fair enough. Do you want me to leave town now or…?”

“Don’t you want to say goodbye to your family? Pack anything?” Roman furrowed his eyebrow, quite frankly confused as to why Virgil was willing to leave so soon.

“Nope. My family doesn’t care about me, and I don’t have anything that I care about that I’m not already carrying.”

“Oh,” Roman replied, suddenly regretting asking. “Well, in that case, I guess we can leave now.”

“Great. So what, do you just… start walking into the woods? Are the magic horses? What happens?”

Roman chuckled. “We walk for a bit, and then I essentially take your hand and we walk through a tree.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“What, you make an oath, change your body, and agree to marry me, and it’s walking through a tree that surprises you?”

“Well when you put it that way… the answer is still yes. Getting married and walking through trees are two different things.”

“Fair enough. Shall we?” Roman asked, holding his arm out for Virgil.

“Let’s go walk through a tree, Princey.”

***

It was safe to say that being led through a portal in a tree was perhaps the strangest thing Virgil had done, except for maybe getting the body he had always wanted by promising to marry said man who took him through the portal. 

Stepping out of the hollowed-out tree, Virgil could immediately tell that this world, the realm of the fae, was different from his own, if even in the most subtle ways. The grass was a slightly different shade, the sun just a little too bright. The most unnerving, however, was the creatures who stared at him as he stepped into the thick grass with Roman, standing at the bottom of the hill in front of the largest building Virgil had ever seen. 

“Hail, Prince Roman. Is this who you are courting?” A faerie woman walked up to Roman and Virgil. Virgil could immediately tell that this was Roman’s mother- they had the same green eyes and tanned skin, and the same golden patches on their wings, not to mention that she carried herself with the grace and power of a queen. There was no doubt in Virgil’s mind that the golden-haired woman was the queen of the Summer Court. 

“Yes, mother. This is Virgil,” Roman replied with a bow.

“I must say I was expecting you to come back with a future wife, but no matter.”

She talked as if Virgil wasn’t present, the only indication that she knew he was there was a tilt of her head as she said ‘wife.’ Virgil cringed a bit at that word, but then remembered what Roman had told him. His old name would be forgotten and everyone would see him as he truly was- a boy. 

“A mortal boy?” Roman’s mother put her hand on Virgil’s face and brushed back his hair to show the rounded tips of his ears, not pointed like the ones of the faeries. She frowned, but continued. “I do hope that he has manners, at least?”

Realizing that she was finally talking to him, Virgil hastily replied. “Yes ma’am,” he attempted a bow, feeling somewhat foolish as he did so with his newly-short hair falling in his face. 

She ‘tsk’d’ at him before beckoning the two to follow her towards the crowd of Fair Folk that had gathered. 

“Folk of the Summer, I present to you my son and his future husband. Judge them as you will, but no harm shall befall either,” she raised her arms to gesture at Roman and Virgil, and a cheer went up from the hundred or so fae gathered. Virgil was about to give in and whisper to Roman that he couldn’t stand being felt like he was on display when the queen took them by the arms and led them into the large stone palace. 

Even there, Virgil wasn’t free from the stares of the fae. Most looked human, except for their pointed ears and sharper teeth. And, of course, the wings that sprouted from their backs. Some, like Roman and his mother, had butterfly-like wings, while others had the feathered wings of birds while still others had those of beetles, bats, moths,or dragonflies. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Virgil spotted the faeries who shared little resemblance to humans scurrying around as servants. The servants bore no wings for the most part, and had fur or scales instead of flesh and stood at only about three feet tall. Virgil caught a glimpse of one with the square pupils and of a goat as they looked up at him. 

The world of the faeries was so different from his own, yet Virgil didn’t find himself afraid. Instead he was… hopeful? Was that the correct word? He thought that perhaps things would be different here- there would be no mocking glares or whispered insults (though sometimes the other kids in the village didn’t even have the kindness to whisper). It certainly seemed that it would be different with the faeries, if the reception he and Roman had when his mother introduced them. Instead of outraged cries or calls to stone them, there had instead been a few confused whispers but none had made the move to ostracize them- or worse. So yes, Virgil supposed that hopeful was the right word to use. 

The queen snapping her fingers to summon a servant also snapped Virgil out of his thoughts. He couldn’t help but stare at the one who came up to them- a short, fur-covered faerie, it’s hair a rainbow of colors.

“Take Roman and Virgil to their room,” the queen commanded. The servant bowed and beckoned the two to follow. 

Once out of earshot of his mother, Roman spoke up. “Virgil, this is Talyn. Talyn, this is Virgil. My mother doesn’t like me to acknowledge anyone ‘below my status,” he explained to Virgil using air quotes. “But I think it’s rude. Also, Talyn is very nice.”

Talyn smiled as they opened a door for Virgil and Roman. Inside was the largest bed Virgil had ever seen. Realizing what whoever must have decorated the room intended brought a flush of red to Virgil’s cheeks. 

“Call if you require anything,” Talyn left with a bow.

Roman nodded and entered the room. Virgil stood awkwardly near a table as Roman collapsed on the bed, his red and gold wings taking up nearly half of it. 

“Well, I didn’t expect the fact that there would only be one bed, but we can work something out, right Virge?”

“Uh, yeah. Right.” 

Suddenly the consequences were thrown in his face. Granted, there were much worse consequences, but Virgil didn’t quite feel that sharing a bed with someone who was still almost a complete stranger could be classified as a good thing. 

Then Virgil realized that he didn’t have a change of clothes. All he had was what he was wearing. He voiced his concern to Roman, who stood up from the bed and replied, “Don’t worry about that. I’m sure my mother was planning on giving whoever I brought to marry an entirely new wardrobe anyways. The only thing you do need to worry about is what colors you like,” Roman chuckled. “She’ll want you to ‘fit in’ with the court, but they’re all painfully pretentious pompous partisans.”

“Wow, try saying that five times fast.”   
“Painfully pretentious pompous partisans! Painfully pretentious pompous partisans!” Roman said it only twice before he started laughing, Virgil joining him in a fit of giggles. 

Things wouldn’t be so bad with Roman if that was what he was like- Virgil could actually get used to living in the faerie realm, and maybe even get used to having to share a bed. 


	2. An Oath

Virgil woke under silken bedsheets in the unfamiliar room. Looking out the window, he saw that the sun was only beginning to rise, casting a sliver of golden light across Roman’s unfurled wings- in a fleeting thought, Virgil realized how beautiful Roman looked, with his wings seeming to glitter and the sharpness of his law relaxed. 

Virgil kept those thoughts to himself, of course, as there was no way he had any kinds of feelings for Roman other than those of slight annoyance and gratefulness, and perhaps the kind of feeling one has when they’ve just met someone they hope to stay good friends with through the rest of their lives. Those were the only feelings he had for Roman, and to say anything to the contrary would be absurd. 

Throwing the covers off, Virgil stepped onto the carpet. It seemed like everything was better in the world of the faeries, including flooring and bedsheets. Taking his cloak from where he had left it on the back of the oak chair for the writing desk, Virgil was struck by the thought that he had no idea what to expect from faerie courtings or weddings. Surely if there was something he needed to know, Roman would have told him, right?

By now, the sun had almost fully risen, and Roman sat up in the bed. Looking over at Virgil, Roman asked, “Sleep alright? I sure hope you did, because I’m pretty sure my mother is going to want to be around you almost all day, and I wouldn’t want to be sleep deprived around her.”

“That’s really comforting. Thanks.”

In truth, Virgil had slept very well, even with Roman snoring beside him. 

That had been the first of Virgil’s many days in the palace of the summer faeries. 

It had been twenty long days since Virgil arrived through the tree of being inspected by Roman’s mother, having been scolded for seemingly the smallest things. The worst by far had been being scolded for slouching, something Virgil hadn’t realized he’d done yet the queen had threatened to put a stick down his shirt to force him to sit up straight. 

Things hadn’t been all bad, of course. He did have to suffer through being measured and prodded at by a tailor, but it had been worth it in the end- the day after that, it had seemed like a sea of fabric had arrived in Roman and Virgil’s shared room. Every shade of purple hung in a gigantic closet hanging opposite of shimmering red, and quite honestly, Virgil had no idea what to do with so many clothes. He hadn’t repeated an outfit, and it was getting a little ridiculous at this point. At least Virgil didn’t have to worry about what shoes matched (frankly Virgil didn’t know why it mattered, but to some humans it did), as the fae went barefoot all the time, and now so did Virgil. Still getting used to the black-and-purple train on his loose robes, Virgil stumbled occasionally on the soft grass where he walked in the gardens with Roman, who was pointing out the different types of flowers. 

“Roman!” 

The two of them looked up to see someone, who, unsurprisingly, had a strong resemblance to Roman who was holding hands with a slightly shorter dark skinned man with glasses. 

“Uncle Thomas! Uncle Nico!” 

Roman ran toward the two of them, grinning, while Virgil stood where Roman had left him, unsure of what to do. That was another thing Virgil found living with faeries: he was very unsure of what he should be doing. What fork to use, what outfit to wear, whom he should greet with a bow and who to use a condescending stare at. 

But Roman had apparently decided for Virgil what to do, as he was dragging the fae who called his name towards Virgil, one with iridescent beetle wings similar to the queen’s and one with wings the size and shape of a hawk’s but a bright blue on one side and yellow on the other.

“Uncle Thomas, Uncle Nico, this is Virgil, my er, betrothed.”

Only Virgil caught the slight hesitation and wince as Roman called him his betrothed. 

“Pleasure to meet you, sirs,” Virgil bowed, not nearly as clumsy as the first time he had attempted to do it, thanks to all the hours spent with the queen practicing his posture and manners and all other things she told him to. 

“No need to bow, Virgil. The honor is mine,” the man wearing glasses said, holding out his hand. “I’m Nico.”   
Virgil shook his hand and introduced himself. 

“I’m Thomas,” the taller one said. “Roman’s uncle by blood. The queen is my sister, so I apologize for anything grief she’s given you about being formal,” he chuckled, Virgil joining him. “We came for the wedding! Three days, right, Roman?” Thomas continued. Virgil couldn’t help but admire the rainbow of colors on Thomas’s wings as the light reflected off them. Watching the shimmering distracted Virgil from the knot in his stomach that formed as Thomas reminded him that the wedding was in only three days, taking place at sunset on the third. 

“Well, we’ll go get settled and let you two finish your walk,” Nico winked at them and looked knowingly at Thomas. 

“I’ll see you later!” Thomas said as the couple walked out of sight. 

A moment of silence passed before Roman looked Virgil in the eye. 

“We haven’t talked about that yet…” Roman said, a hint of guilt in his voice. “I don’t know where you stand on kissing, but for a public display we can do a theater kiss. It’s where I would put my thumbs on your lips and kiss my thumbs instead of you,” Roman explained off of Virgil’s confused look. “We’d probably have to do a real one at the wedding, though.” 

“Er, Roman? I- I’ve never actually kissed someone before,” Virgil said in an embarrassed whisper. 

“Oh,” Roman thought for a minute. “Well, would you like to kiss me for real one time? That way-”   
“Okay,” Virgil said, a flush rising in his cheeks.

“Okay.”   
Roman put his hands around Virgil’s waist and pulled him in close, the two of them chest to chest. Virgil closed his eyes and tilted his chin up slightly, trying to remember how everyone he saw making out in the shadows did it. 

Their lips touched, and Virgil felt a shiver go down his spine as he leaned into Roman, wrapping his arms around his back and feeling the smoothness of his wings pressed against Roman’s back. 

Finally they pulled apart, standing in silence before Virgil started silently laughing. “If that’s how kissing always is, then I don’t mind it.”

It was Roman’s turn to go red, though Virgil assumed it was from what Virgil had said- he didn’t mean it in that way, of course, but Roman had probably jumped to conclusions. Virgil held no feelings for him, but simply meant that he wouldn’t mind kissing Roman. 

Three nights later, it was time. Virgil and Roman had been woken up early and ushered away from each other by servants. Virgil had recognized Talyn leading Roman down the hallway opposite from where Virgil was being led. In front of a floor-to-ceiling mirror, Virgil saw the most extravagant article of clothing he had seen, even after living with faeries for twenty three days and nights. 

The lavender robes, almost dresslike, covered a dark purple tunic with silver stitching hung next to a cape that looked as if had been sewn right out of the night sky- shimmering purple swirled with streaks of blue and was spotted with silver and gold, seemingly placed there right from the galaxy above. And there, sitting on a carved wooden table, was a silver diadem with opals and amethyst embedded in the silver. 

“This is.. All for me?” Virgil could hardly believe that he was to wear all that- surely that had taken so much work? How had someone done all that in twenty three days? And to wear it only once would be a shame… someone had worked so hard on that! He briefly wondered what Roman would wear- would it be like Virgil’s, dark and swirling? Or something else?

Virgil’s train of thought was interrupted by one of the servants unbuttoning his shirt. 

“Hey!” Virgil cried, still shy about himself even though his body had changed. 

“I apologize sir, but it’s our job to get you ready,” they continued, either not seeing the discomfort on Virgil’s face or simply not caring. 

When they were done, Virgil looked at himself in the mirror and gasped. Surely that couldn’t be him dressed in the garb made for royalty? In the cape made from the stars and robes the color of precious gems? The center gem on the diadem rested on his forehead, a contrast to his dark hair, which had been arranged with a short braided crown holding the diadem in place and the rest brushing against the collar of his indigo tunic. 

The servants bowed as they left, leaving Virgil alone with only his reflection. After a moment of solitude, the door opened again, and in walked the queen. 

Dipping into a perfected bow, careful not to mess up the diadem’s placement, he greeted her. 

“You are to be my son-in-law soon,” she said, dipping her head in acknowledgement. Another thing Virgil had learned is that the fae are very direct to the point- perhaps it had something to do with the fact that they couldn’t tell a direct lie, but Virgil actually liked how no one he talked to avoided the point or used confusing expressions. 

“Roman will be happy with you,” she continued. “I will admit I had my doubts about you, being a mortal, but you have certainly proven yourself to be able. Roman will have a good husband.”

Virgil simply nodded, not replying. 

“Now come,” the queen beckoned him to follow as she left the room. “It’s time for you to wed my son.”

Virgil stepped onto the grass, his galaxy-esque cape trailing behind him, led by the queen to the altar where an officiator stood. Virgil could feel his heart hammering in his chest and was surprised that no one in the seemingly endless crowd of fae made a remark. 

Suddenly the silence seemed deafening, and Virgil looked down the aisle to see Roman walking towards him, led by someone Virgil didn’t recognize but looked identical to Roman except for a scraggly mustache on his upper lip. Roman looked even more dressed up than Virgil, if that was possible. 

Where Virgil’s robes and cape were like the night sky, Roman’s was like a bright summer afternoon- a red sash was held in place by a belt that seemed to be made of pure gold and the cape that hung off his shoulders seemed to be brighter than the sun itself, the ensemble completed with a diadem made of gold, the twin to the one Virgil wore. 

Then, when Virgil thought Roman couldn’t get any more beautiful, Roman stopped in front of Virgil and smiled, churning the butterflies in Virgil’s stomach even more. 

Roman’s brother stood to the side as the officiator bent down to pick up two crowns- one silver and one gold, each studded with even more glittering gems. 

The officiator cleared their throat and began. 

“Today, we see not only the union of two men, but also the union of two worlds,” they unwound a piece of ribbon and placed Virgil’s and Roman’s hands together, wrapping them in the grass-green silk. 

“Prince Roman, do you declare today your love for Virgil?”   
“I do,” Roman said, nodding.

“And Virgil, do you declare today your love for Roman?”

“I do,” Virgil echoed. 

“Then let the sun and trees bear witness, as do all gathered here today, that Roman and Virgil are wed, both by love and by law. You may now kiss.”

Roman moved forward, putting his arms around Virgil’s waist. Virgil closed the gap between them, putting his lips on Roman’s. The kiss was just as nice as the first time they had kissed in the gardens, though Virgil couldn’t help feeling self conscious as the crowd of fae stood and clapped for them. 

Roman pulled away, and looked out at the crowd, ginning. Music began to play even louder than the cheering crowd, Roman pulled Virgil into a dance, each swaying to the music. Virgil found himself silently thanking that he had been taught the basics of almost every dance he could think of. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Thomas and Nico, both their brightly colored wings glinting in the sunset as they danced together. They looked so in love with each other, it was hard for Virgil to imagine ever loving someone that much- nevertheless, he hoped he would. And there, in a corner, was Roman’s brother kissing a man with the black wings of a raven or crow.

As Roman twirled Virgil, he could just make out what Roman whispered in his ear. 

“Thank you, Virgil. I owe you so much.”

The only acknowledgement Virgil gave was a subtle nod of his head.

***

That night, after dressing out of their finery and laying in their shared bed, Virgil turned his head to Roman and asked, “Why me? Why a mortal? Why couldn’t you have one of your friends do it?”

Roman looked over. “We can’t lie. I said I love you, and I do, platonically. But a friend, which I have very few of, could be asked something like “does Roman love you romantically,” and they would be forced to say the truth: no. You, however, can lie. You can say that yes, I do love you. And it’s not unheard of for faeries to fall in love with mortals, so either way, no one would become suspicious that I don’t love you.”

“Why would that be such a bad thing? That you don’t love me, I mean.”

Roman sighed, and Virgil immediately regretted asking so many questions. But Roman just answered with a frown.

“Marriage is a sacred thing to the fae. We marry only for love, and binding yourself to another is the highest form of love. Faeries are born to be wild, untamed, free. A wedding makes you stay with that person for the rest of your life, which in our world, can be centuries. That’s why it would be so bad.” 

“Oh.” was all Virgil said. 

The next morning, Virgil woke before Roman as usual. The unusual part, however, was that Roman seemed to have trails of tears running down his cheeks and wetting his pillow. 

Virgil sat up for a moment, wondering what could have happened that drove Roman to tears. Roman had seemed fine, happy even, at the ceremony. So what could have happened?

  
  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Virgil had been married for a week, yet he felt no change. Sure, Roman was with him almost every hour of the day, at dinners and brunches and meetings, and sure, Virgil’s heart seemed to beat a little faster and his cheeks seemed to flush when Roman was next to him, but Virgil would get used to that just as he had gotten used to everything else. 

Virgil now sat on the back of a couch with Roman and his friends sitting in various incorrect ways. He had been introduced to Logan and Remus, the two he had seen dancing and making out at the ceremony, and Patton and Janus, one with the brightest grin and best cookies and the other slightly off putting at first, due to the fact that half of his body was scales instead of flesh, but Virgil quickly found Janus to be the funniest of the group with his deadpan and sarcastic humor. 

Logan had been pulled into Remus’s lap while Janus and Patton leaned on each other. It seemed that it was only Virgil and Roman who weren’t being overly affectionate to each other. 

Roman laughed at something Logan had said, and as Roman laughed Virgil could only think of how he would love to have Roman’s arms around his waist like how Janus and Patton held each other, or to trace Roman’s jawline with kisses as Remus did to Logan-

_ Oh- oh no-  _ Virgil caught himself.  _ Well,  _ he thought,  _ I’m screwed.  _

How had he gone from friends to falling in love so quickly? Well, it wasn’t quick by most standards, but Virgil had always fallen in love slowly, bit by bit. Maybe it was the way Roman laughed, loud and grinning. Or maybe the way he slept, one hand thrown over his forehead and the other handing off the bed while he snored in a very un-princely manner, only letting his royal posture down when he and Virgil were alone. 

But falling in love hadn’t been part of the plan! It hadn’t been part of the deal! 

Virgil sat with Roman and his friends as they continued laughing and joking with each other while he occasionally joined in, though he was quiet for most of the time. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Roman’s friends- no, in fact they were all very lovely people! But the realization that he had fallen in love never left his thoughts for long. 

As the sun set and his friends returned to their homes or rooms in the castle, Roman stood and held out a hand to him. 

“Virgil,” Roman said. “I want to show you something.”

Virgil took his hand, and only then realized that they were, in fact, holding hands as they walked down the castle corridors. Roman led him past their shared bedroom to a floor Virgil hadn’t even been to. Leading up up a long, twisting staircase, Roman looked back at Virgil and took out a key on a chain that had been hidden under his shirt. 

He unlocked the door and held it open for Virgil.

“It’s my art studio,” Roman said with a flourish. 

Virgil walked in and gasped despite himself. Murals covered every inch of the wall and hundreds of canvases were stacked on top of each other or leaning against the colorful stone. Paint splatters and drops dotted the floor, and Virgil did his best to avoid them but stained his feet nonetheless. Virgil looked in awe at everything Roman had painted. 

Landscapes of the hills and a sunset over a forest leaned next to portraits of other faeries, Virgil recognizing the bright wings and wide smiles of Thomas and Nico. They looked so real, as if Virgil could touch the painting and instead of canvas he would feel their hair or wings. 

The painting that caught his eye, however, stood on an easel in the center of the room. A dark haired man slept on a bed of flowers, and with a shock, Virgil realized that Roman had painted _ him _ .

Virgil turned to Roman, speechless. 

“I— Virgil began, not quite knowing what to say. 

“Oh, gosh! You probably hate it, and-”

“No! Roman! I- it’s beautiful. I didn’t realize you were so good! It all looks so… real. Like I’m looking in a mirror, but the mirror shows me looking even better than I really do!”   
“Well, I think you look beautiful. Handsome. Dashing. Not as handsome as me, of course, but a close second,” Roman nudged Virgil as they both grinned. 

“Still so full of yourself, Princey? Lucky you have me to put you in your place,” Virgil laughed, Roman’s words still lingering with him. Faeries couldn’t lie… but surely Roman was saying that in a non-romantic way, right? Roman had told him time and time again that there were no romantic feelings, and again, faeries couldn’t lie! So which one was it? 

“Yeah,” Roman whispered. “I really am lucky to have you.”

“So what’d you want me up here for?” 

“Well.... I’d like to paint you. But not from memory, like I did with that one,” Roman pointed to the canvas depicting Virgil in the bed of flowers. “I want you to model, I guess is the right word for it. Would you be willing?”

Virgil stared for a moment. Roman actually wanted to paint him? And sure, this was the body Virgil had always wanted, but was he really that good looking in Roman’s eyes? That Roman would actually want to paint what he really looked like, not a portrait that surely over dramatized how he looked? 

“I mean, if you really want me to, then sure,” Virgil replied. 

Roman clapped his hands together. “Perfect! We’ll come back tomorrow and we’ll bring some food up here and make a date out of it!”

A date? Virgil’s eyes widened. Of course Roman meant date as in the day, not date as in there would be kissing afterwards! It would be foolish to assume otherwise! 

Yet Virgil still found himself hoping for the latter long into the night, laying wide awake as Roman snored beside him. 

The next morning the two of them climbed the tower staircase, a basket of fruit and other faerie snacks in a basket dangling from Virgil’s arm. 

“I got some nicer chairs and pillows brought up so you don't have to suffer through the wooden chairs we normally have to sit on for portraits. Those are  _ terrible.”  _ Roman said with an exaggerated shudder. 

Virgil was, quite honestly, surprised at how much thought Roman had put into it. 

“Oh, thanks,” was all Virgil could think to say, and then immediately chided himself on not saying something more interesting. 

Roman moved to set up a canvas as he said, “sit however you’d like, but close to the window so there’s better lighting.” 

“Alright,” Virgil said, as he climbed up on the windowsill and sat in the corner where the glass and stone met. 

“You really are like a cat, huh?” Roman laughed when he turned around to see the position Virgil had decided to sit in. “Just make sure you’re comfortable, we’ll be here for a while. Today I need to get the pose correct, and then the next sitting will be doing the color, and the one after that will be adding the final touches like the light! Oh, and try to stay as still as possible.” 

Roman took out a stick of graphite and began sketching on the canvas. Virgil sat, stiffly and silently as to not distract Roman, so he let his thoughts wander. Occasionally Roman looked up, and Virgil caught glimpses of the smudges of graphite on his cheeks, the way his grass-green eyes studied the way Virgil’s arm rested on his leg, where is foot lay on the stone, how his hair fell over his eyes. 

As the shadows changed and Virgil’s stomach growled, Roman announced, “let’s take a break and eat! My wrist is in _ pain!”  _

Virgil laughed, relieved to finally move. He stretched his arms above his head and yawned. “If you insist.” 

Roman took a seat on one of the various pillows scattered around while Virgil stood, leaning against the wall painted with a mural of a trail in the woods, pinpricks of silver and gold stars peaking through the towering pines. It was almost as if Virgil could feel the park, could smell the fallen leaves on the dirt path cutting through the brush and the sap that oozed from the truck, could hear the rustling of the leaves as the wind blew through the tops of the trees and a deer grazing in the safety of a thicket. 

Roman washed his graphite-covered hands in a water basin then opened the basket and handed Virgil a green apple, perfectly ripe and crisp as he bit into it- perfect as all faerie food was. Roman himself nibbled on fresh red cherries, each as red as the silken sash he wore to denote his position and as beautiful as the glimmering wings on his back. 

They ate in silence, Virgil taking in each painting displayed in awe of Roman’s talents. Each brushstroke placed just so in the way that gave the illusion of depth, the colors blending the give light and shadow to the already immaculate portraits and landscapes. 

Finishing his apple, Virgil stole a cherry from Roman, who gave an indignant “hey!” 

Virgil smirked as he tossed the cherry in the air and caught it in his mouth, biting down and the sweet juice a sharp contrast to the bitter apple. 

“Well,” Roman said, wiping his juice-stained hands on his pants. “Shall we continue?”

“We shall,” Virgil replied, cracking all the joints he could in preparation for sitting still for another few hours. 

Wait,” Roman stopped Virgi before he could get back onto the windowsill. “You have something on your lips.” 

He put a hand to Virgil’s mouth and wiped away a glob of cherry, unaware that Virgil was now the same shade as the fruit. 

Virgil stared for a minute at the hand that lingered just a little too long yet not long enough. “I- thanks.” Virgil finally replied. 

“Of course. I can’t have my model looking anything but perfect,” Roman replied as he walked back to his canvas. 

Virgil sat back down, still red from the feeling of Roman’s hand on his lips. They had kissed before, or course: for the crowd at the wedding, to please the court at dinners- but there had never been love behind it, just an empty act to please those watching them. 

But now? Now Virgil wanted nothing more than to be close to Roman, for his touch, for… for anything. 

Yet Virgil pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind and corrected his position from what Roman told him to do. 

“Put your arm a little to the left- no no, my left! And extend your right knee a bit more… perfect!” And so the scratching of graphite on canvas continued, long after the sun went down, until Virgil found himself nodding off, his head leaning against his chest. 

When Virgil woke the next morning, the sun, bright as ever, shone through the tower window. He blinked once, twice, until he got his bearings and found Roman curled up around a pillow on the floor, streaks of gray all over his face. A chuckle left him as Roman twitched, spreading more graphite across his eyes almost like a raccoon’s mask. 

Virgil stood and began to work out the crick in his neck. “Roman. Roman, you look very undignified right now,” he laughed, shaking Roman awake. 

“hmm? “ Roman sat up and rubbed his gray streaked eyes, causing Virgil to laugh again. Roman groaned and reached for a hand mirror that rested on a table of brushes. “Oh! Gosh, I look like a mess…” Roman reached for the water basin and bagan to wash his face. 

“Yeah? What else is new?” Virgil poked him. 

“Rude!” Roman gasped and flicked some water at Virgil.

Virgil shrieked and covered his face with his hands. 

“Stooop! I can’t work in these conditions!” Roman laughed. 

“So does that mean I’m free?” 

“Of course not, you’re too pretty, Hot Topic.”   
“Aww, you think I’m hot,” Virgil smirked as he sat back on the windowsill, watching Roman collect various paints and different-shaped brushes. 

“Okay, ready? I’m about to start doing the actual painting. You’re allowed to move a bit more during this part, because I already have the pose done, but not too much.” 

“Yup. Go head!” Virgil looked out of the corner of his eye to see Roman holding a wooden palette in one hand and tubes of paint in the other, mixing the colors on the wood. A dark blue, a lavender, black- so many colors went on his palette and mixed together. When Roman was satisfied, he took a brush and began to paint. 

The constant scratch of the bristles on canvas was oddly soothing, and Virgil began to relax. His mind wandered to what could be on the canvas- would it be as beautiful as everything else Roman had painted? Virgil stared at the mural of the forest and wondered how long that had taken Roman- how long to paint even one tree? 

A few hours passed, and every time Virgil looked over at Roman, there was more paint on his fingers, a deeper look of concentration on his face. At one point, Virgil even grinned as he saw Roman’s tongue sticking out. A bit longer, and Roman stepped back with a grin. 

“Done! Well, for today at least.”

Virgil hopped down from the window and walked over.

“No!” Roman shouted. “Don’t look! It’s not done yet!”

Virgil put his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright then, if it looks that bad just tell me,” he said with a hint of sarcasm. 

“It does not! It just isn’t ready for public viewing!” 

“I don’t think I quite count as the public, now do I?” 

“Okay, maybe you don’t, but you’re still not allowed to look yet! But we’re done for today, and the paint has to dry until I can do the lighting and shading tomorrow.” 

“Ugh, another whole day with you?” Virgil nudged Roman as they walked out of the tower together. 

“I know, I can’t believe I want to spend more time with you!”

They both laughed, poking fun at each other. It was actually a very fun past time, playfully making fun of his husband, Virgil had found out. 

Husband- that was still such an odd, unfamiliar word. There was supposed to be love behind that word, yet there was only a lie and a promise of friendship when Virgil wanted there to be so much more. With the thought of Roman’s paintings in his mind, Virgil fell asleep. 

The next morning Virgil and Roman again went to the painting tower, both in the positions they had become used to. 

This session went by much quicker than the last two- “all I need are the finishing touches,” Roman explained. And so after a couple of hours, Roman stepped back in triumph. 

“Perfect!” he shouted, throwing his paint-stained hands in the air. “You may now look!” 

Virgil jogged over to the easel, his curiosity and excitement peaking. And when he saw the canvas, he moved a hand to his mouth in surprise. 

“Roman… this is amazing!” 

Virgil stared at the painting in awe. It was almost like looking in a mirror- the Virgil in the painting sat in front of a window overlooking a field of wheat, one leg extended and the other pulled to his chest, arms crossed around it. He looked toward the viewer with a smile, a black strand of hair over his right eye. Light shone on his purple robes, seeming to glitter. 

“It’s beautiful,” Virgil said again. 

“Just like you,” Roman said with a small grin. 

“I- what?” 

Virgil could feel the flush coming up his cheeks. Had Roman really just said that?

“Virgil,” Roman continued. “When I asked you to marry me, I wasn’t in love with you at all. I had never been in love with anyone. But now? Now I see that it’s you- I am in love with you, Virgil. And I think I have been for a few weeks now.” 

Virgil just stood there, open-mouthed. Was Roman truly saying this? Did Roman truly love him back?

“I understand if you don’t, but I had to tell you, Virgil-”

“Roman,” Virgil stopped him mid sentence. “Shut up and let me kiss you.” 

It was Roman’s turn to be speechless as Virgil wrapped his arms around Roman’s waist and leaned in, their lips barely brushing against each other at first, but becoming more passionate with every second. 

And when they pulled apart, Roman grinned. “So I guess this means you do like me, hm?”

“You’re so dense,” Virgil laughed and kissed Roman again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading, and i hope you enjoyed it as much as I did! Prinxiety is *chef's kiss*


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